James knew that Layla meant well when she said they were going to be okay. And he really wanted to believe it. But from the sound of Juan’s voice on the phone, things were a lot worse than Juan was letting on. Juan was in deep trouble, and that thought frustrated James. He should be there to help his friend. He owed Juan that much.
James straightened in his seat. Even if he couldn’t help his friend deal with what he was facing, he could do what Juan had asked him to—keep Layla safe.
“A mall,” Layla’s voice broke through his thoughts.
“What?”
Layla glanced over at him and then waved to the large sign on the side of the road. “A mall. Two exits from here.” She chewed her lip as she studied him. “Mind if we make a stop? Your clothes are nice and all, but I need something that doesn’t make me look like I’m wearing a potato sack.” She pulled at the loose fabric of his shirt and shorts.
James nodded, turned on his blinker, and merged into the right lane. “Of course.” As much as he wanted to get to Honey Grove, he needed a break from the car. He needed to gather his thoughts, and getting some space from Layla would help.
Fifteen minutes later, James pulled into a parking spot at the mall and killed the engine. He slipped the key from the ignition and pulled open his door. Layla did the same, and they met up as they started walking into the large brick building in front of them.
When they got to the front doors, James held one open as Layla walked in. He was grateful that she looked as if she knew where she was going. He couldn’t remember the last time he went shopping. Most of his clothes were just T-shirts and shorts that he’d picked up here and there.
As they walked farther into the mall, James noted how Layla’s shoulders visibly relaxed. It was like she was in her element. Which didn’t surprise him. As a fashion designer, clothes were her world. She probably felt safe here. That’s how he felt about guns. They were a physical representation for a spiritual need.
“In here,” Layla sang out as she waved him into a brightly lit store.
Mannequins lined the walls. They were adorned in bright skirts and tanks. James studied them, wondering who in their right mind would wear clothes like that—until Layla appeared with an armful.
She smiled over at him as she passed by, collecting items as she went. Once her arms were full to bursting, James realized that he couldn’t just stand here and stare at her. He walked over and held out his hands.
“Let me,” he said. He reached out to take the clothes, and, as he did, his fingers brushed her skin. Warmth crept up his arm from the contact.
Layla’s eyes widened as she nodded. James pushed the thoughts that were building in his mind to a very far corner. He couldn’t read into anything. That wasn’t what he was here to do. This wasn’t some happy vacation. This was a job, and his job was to protect Layla.
So he cleared his throat and nodded. “Any more?”
Layla shook her head and they made their way to the dressing room, where James helped her hang the clothes on the hook inside.
She shut the door, and James collapsed on one of the chairs just outside. A bored-looking guy sat next to him. James nodded in his direction then turned and pulled out his phone.
From the pile of clothes Layla had collected, he was going to be there for a while.
“James?” Layla’s soft voice drew his attention over to her dressing room. She had the door cracked open.
James was on his feet and over to her at a speed he hadn’t intended. Perhaps it was the devastated look on her face that had him worried something had happened.
“Yeah?” he asked, dipping down to meet her gaze.
She blinked a few times and then glanced back up at him. “Do you mind getting me a few larger sizes?” She shuffled around in the dressing room and then emerged with a handful of clothes.
“Me?” he asked, staring down at the items. He hadn’t really been paying attention to where she had picked up the clothes.
Her expression faltered as she nodded. “Yes, please.”
The desire to make her happy won out, so James took the hangers from her. “I can try.”
“Thanks,” she said as she smiled weakly up at him. “Just one size up would be great.”
James glanced down at the clothes and read the tags. Extra small. Before he could clarify that she wanted a small, Layla shut the door, leaving him standing there.
Even though he felt completely out of his element, James turned and made his way back into the racks of clothing. He was determined to help her even though he had no idea what he was doing.
“Do you need some help?” asked a woman with blonde hair so light it looked white. She emerged from behind one to the racks. She had a lanyard with the name Yasmine typed across it.
Relief flooded through James as he nodded and shoved the clothes in her direction. “I need a size up for all of these.”
Yasmine took the clothes and glanced down at them. “Your girlfriend okay?”
Not sure how he felt about discussing Layla, James just shoved his hands into his front pockets and shrugged. “Yes, she’s fine.”
Yasmine studied him, and he gave her a smile. He really didn’t want to continue this conversation. He was so used to staying away from people, that this was making him extremely uncomfortable.
“She’s in the dressing rooms,” he said as he turned and made his way back to his chair and collapsed into it.
Desperate to ward off any future conversations, James shifted until his elbows were resting on his knees and his head was dipped forward. He studied the ground as the feeling to run rushed over him.
He needed to get his crap together if he was going to protect Layla.
Five minutes later, the saleswoman returned and knocked on Layla’s dressing room door. James kept his gaze down as he listened to their conversation. It was simple, all about the clothes. The saleswoman left and the door clicking shut filled the silence.
James closed his eyes, desperate to get out of the mall and back into his car. Why he’d thought he would enjoy coming in here was beyond him. He was craving the safety of his small apartment back home. A place where he couldn’t hurt people. A place where he couldn’t get hurt.
“James?” Layla’s voice snapped him from his downward spiral.
He glanced up to see her standing in the crack of the door with her arm wrapped around the front of her dress as she hugged it to her body.
“Could you help me?” she asked. Her cheeks flushed as James studied her.
“Sure,” he said, grateful for the distraction.
She smiled as she stepped aside and then waved him into the dressing room. Realizing that she wanted him to go in there, he glanced behind him and then back at her expectant look.
“I can come in there with you?”
Layla studied him and then smiled. It was sweet and genuine. “Of course. I just need you to finish my zipper. It’s not like we’re going to do anything…” Her voice trailed off as she leaned in and gave him a flirty smile.
James swallowed as his heart picked up speed. He knew she was flirting, and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy it. But he knew he shouldn’t. That’s not what he was there for.
“I knew that,” he said as he stood in the middle of the dressing room. His voice had come out deeper than he intended, and he worried she’d pick up on it.
Layla locked the door and then turned. The look on her face told him she hadn’t picked up on anything. Instead, she was focused on pulling her long hair over one shoulder as she turned around.
The back of the dress was open, exposing her olive skin. A black, lacy bra was clasped right under her shoulder blades. A feeling deep in James’s gut stirred as his gaze slipped down her back to the small bit of lace where the zipper started.
Her skin was smooth and perfect.
“Do you mind?” she asked, tipping her face toward him and glancing over her shoulder. Her dark-red lips mesmerized him as he stared at the way they formed her words.
She was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. He studied her for a moment before he nodded and stepped closer to her. Reaching down, he grasped the zipper and the dress. It felt like he was moving in slow motion as he slid the zipper up. Just as he got to the nape of her neck, his fingers brushed her skin, causing zaps of electricity to shoot through him.
What was he doing? He needed to get out of there.
Taking a step closer to the door, he glanced down at the lock, willing it to open. Layla didn’t seem to pick up on his panicked response. Instead, she was standing in front of the mirror with her hands pressed to her stomach. Her gaze roamed over the fabric as she turned from side to side.
“What do you think?” she asked, turning fully to look at him.
James winced as he stiffened. She wanted him to stay here longer, and it was killing him inside. He couldn’t be attracted to his friend’s ex. That broke basically every loyalty rule ever written.
“James?” she asked, reaching out and resting her hand on his forearm.
He flinched and closed his eyes for a moment. The walls of the dressing room felt as if they were closing in on him.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
James clenched his jaw as he shook his head. He wasn’t okay for so many reasons.
“Is it me?”
James whipped his gaze over to her and shook his head. There was no way he wanted her blaming herself for his inadequacies. “I get claustrophobic,” he said, his voice coming out weak. It frustrated him how out of control he felt. It was like, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t fix what was broken inside of him.
He was never going to be able to move on from what had happened. He just needed accept that. He didn’t deserve happiness.
“I need to go,” he said as he grabbed the lock and slid it open. Once he was out of the dressing room, he shut the door behind him and took a deep breath.
It felt good to get some space, but he needed more. He needed to distance himself from Layla until he no longer felt a weight crushing his lungs.
“I’ll wait for you outside,” he said as he ducked his head and leaned closer to the door.
“Okay.” Her voice was soft and sent pulses of pleasure through his body.
He was in trouble.
Not waiting for her to respond, he weaved his way through the clothing racks until he was standing outside the store. A bench near the entrance was vacant, so he collapsed down on it.
Taking a deep breath, he rested his elbows on his knees and cradled his head in hands. He needed to get a grip if he was going to survive this. Whatever this was.
Closing his eyes, his mind wandered.
Of course, the second he took a moment to calm his mind, his thoughts turned directly to that day. The one that changed his life forever. The day Clarisa died.
Emotions boiled up inside of him as he swallowed hard. Why couldn’t he move past this? Why did it break his heart so many times it felt as if there were nothing left in his soul to shatter?
Maybe it was because she wasn’t around to forgive him. Her death had left him in this perpetual state of unrest. Death was cruelest to the ones left behind. There was no closure. No way to end the pain that gripped his body.
Frustrated that he was allowing himself to spiral, James sat back and pulled out his phone. He needed a distraction. Something to make his mind off of everything.
Finding Jackson’s number, he pressed it. Maybe his kid brother would help relax him. Or at least give him something else to think about.
After a few rings, Jackson’s voicemail recording filled the speaker. James sighed as he waited to leave a message.
“Hey, man. Just wondering if you were going to make it to Jordan’s birthday party. I know things are probably real crazy with you.” James let out his breath, cursing himself for even calling. What was he doing? Jackson couldn’t do anything for him. There was no way talking to his kid brother was going to fix anything.
“Anyway, I’ll talk to you later. You know what? Forget I even called.” Pulling the phone from his face, he pressed the end call button and shoved it back into his pocket.
He was losing his mind. He’d been just fine with his life before Layla came into it. And he was pretty sure that as soon as she left, he’d pick up right where he left off. There was no reason to involve anyone else in his mess.
He’d figure this out. He always did.
Stretching out his legs, he let his gaze wander. It settled on a woman in the shop across from him. She was standing next to the cash register and handing the cashier a credit card. He studied her as a thought began to form in his mind.
Layla.
She was probably going to pay with her card.
James bolted off of the bench and back into the store. He had no idea what the men who were after Juan were capable of or if they had the means to track credit card transactions. Just in case, he needed to catch her before she paid.
After a quick glance into the dressing rooms came up empty, James made his way through the store. Thankfully, she wasn’t at the cash register. So where was she?
Relief washed over him when he found her off in the corner to the left. She was standing in what looked like the baby section of the store. He approached her to find that she was staring at an outfit for a baby. She looked as if she were in a trance and didn’t move when he approached her.
It was strange that she was in the baby section, wasn’t it?
Not sure what to do, James waited to see if she would notice him. When she didn’t look over, he cleared his throat. That caused her to jump and whip her gaze over to him. Her eyes were wide and her lips parted.
Then a blush rushed over her cheeks as she pinched her lips together into a forced smile. She returned the clothing item to the rack.
“Everything okay?” he asked, flicking his gaze over to the clothes she’d been staring at.
Layla hugged the items that were draped over her arm and nodded. “Yes, of course. Why?”
James studied her but then decided to not ask the question that was in his mind. She was going through a trauma right now. So what if she got lost in the baby section of the store?
“I don’t want you using your card just in case they can track it.” He reached out to take the clothes from her. His fingers brushed her arm, but he forced his mind to stay calm. It meant nothing. It couldn’t.
“Oh, okay,” she said as she released her hold on the clothes and then wrapped her arms around her chest.
Grateful that he wasn’t going to have to persuade her, he made his way up to the register and paid for the clothes. After they were bagged, he grabbed the handles and turned, holding them up. “Ready to go?”
Layla nodded and followed after James as they made their way out of the store and into the rest of the mall. After finding a bathroom, Layla changed while James waited outside. She came out in some pale pink shorts and a floral, off-shoulder shirt.
Her dark hair cascaded down her shoulders, framing her face and taking James’s breath away. She was beautiful and fragile, and the desire to protect her took over his mind and body.
Forcing those feelings down, he straightened, pulling her bags off the ground, and smiled. “Ready?”
She tucked her hair behind her ear and nodded.
James motioned toward the exit, and Layla kept in step with him. Just as he pushed open the doors to the outside, he smiled down at her. “Next stop, Honey Grove.”